


Permission

by days4daisy



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Dark Poe, Dubious Consent, Extra Treat, Inappropriate Use of the Force, M/M, Mind Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 01:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8382805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: "You are not assigned to Jakku." Kylo hooks Dameron's chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "You are assigned to me."





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glitterstim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterstim/gifts).



"If it's still on Jakku, we will soon have it."

Kylo storms past Hux. "I leave that to you." Stormtroopers freeze in salute as he passes.

In the privacy of his quarters, Kylo paces the outline of a simple bed. Black sheets with white trim. No decor on the walls. Metal furniture, metal bed frame. Crushed helmet of his grandfather, the greatest Sith-Lord who ever lived. 

The door to his quarters slides open, unbidden. A body lazes against the frame. All black pilot's uniform, hair an organized chaos of curls. His arms are folded over his chest. "Permission to speak freely?" he asks.

"You, ask permission?" Kylo's metallic voice carries a twinge of amusement. "Granted."

"Your admiral isn't loyal, Ren. It'll bite you in the ass if you're not careful."

"Enter," Kylo orders. He waits to be joined, then waves a hand. The door slams shut behind his commander. Finest pilot of the First Order. Inflated sense of self-importance to match his rank.

"Your envy of Admiral Hux is unbecoming," Kylo tells him. "It threatens insubordination, if _you're_ not careful."

"You should assign me to Jakku," Dameron insists. His eyes settle briefly on the remains of Darth Vader before rising to meet Kylo's masked stare.

"You are _not_ assigned to Jakku." Kylo hooks Dameron's chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "You are assigned to me."

Dameron glares, blade-sharp. "Yes, sir." He dares to set hands on Kylo's waist.

At their proximity, Kylo can't see Dameron's tongue trace his mask. But he feels it, a dull weight on hia jaw. "You know better than this," Kylo warns.

"I do," Dameron agrees. Flippant, reckless.

"Careful." His gloved fingers bite into Dameron's chin.

Dameron's eyes glint. "Why don't you take this off?" His breath leaves an imprint on Kylo's mask.

"No," Kylo says. 

Dameron sighs. "One day, I guess."

Kylo agrees. "For now..." He motions towards the bed.

Dameron nods and pinches the top button of his uniform open. Kylo shakes his head. "As you are." His visored eyes fix on the dip of Dameron's collarbone.

Dameron shrugs but leaves his clothes as requested. He sits on the end of the bed, hands balanced on spread knees. From his new vantage point, Dameron takes a long look up Kylo's body. His tongue traces his bottom lip.

"There is so much I can do to you." Kylo's words are both promise and lament. So many options. So little time.

Dameron hums. "Bet you can." As encouragement, he drapes a hand over his stomach. It traces the swell of the belt around his waist. And down, across the front of his pants. Dameron's thighs shift further apart. Kylo can see his start, a gentle curve to the fabric. 

Kylo flicks a wrist. Dameron's arm snaps back, freezing to the bed. He blinks, caught off-guard. "I said," Kylo murmurs, "there is so much _I_ can do to _you_." Anticipation darkens Dameron's eyes. "Would you like an example?"

A sharp inhale, a smirk. "Go for it."

Kylo evaluates his many options. Should he rip Dameron's clothes with a wave of his hand? Take control of Dameron's hands, make him finger himself? Or possess Dameron's mouth? Make him swallow and suck until he can't breathe?

Kylo's fingers curve like a painter placing the final line on a masterpiece. Dameron stares, uncomprehending. Until his breath stutters. 

Even now, panic is Dameron's first response. An instinctive struggle, however brief. Every man yearns to be free, after all. Until he learns how much sweeter servitude can be.

Kylo does not make Dameron wait for his reward. His struggle turns to flushed cheeks and an open mouth. Dameron's head snaps back suddenly. A note of pleasure tears from his lips.

Dameron's mind opens to Kylo; a web of intimate circuits and wires. To a master of the Force, a human is little more than a droid with a heartbeat. Identity, personality, morals, beliefs; all reduced to a network of threads. One string, a memory of boys with sticks fashioned into blasters. The next, an old woman crooning to a feverish child. Another, the exhilaration of Dameron's first battle. A Resistance fighter reduced to fireworks in the sky.The pendant of 'commander' pinned to his lapel. Dameron, winking up at Kylo's masked face.

Kylo weaves through the tapestry of Poe Dameron. He plucks his commander's joy like violin strings. Memories collide, a beautiful mess, until one sensation overwhelms all others: _Pleasure_.

"Fuck," Dameron rasps, ragged and amazed. Perfection sizzles on every nerve.

Kylo presses deeper. Dameron moans. His waist juts forward, erection strained against his pants. The Force licks intimate places unreachable by the human tongue. Wet, hot persistence around the base of Dameron's spine. "Ah!" Dameron's head twists. His vulnerability is captivating. A willing prisoner; mind, body, and soul.

Kylo steps between his open knees. He will not take off his mask, but he does remove one glove. Dameron is feverish under Kylo's bare skin. He traces the red staining Dameron's cheek.

"Perhaps I should have sent you to Jakku," Kylo muses. "Perhaps Admiral Hux should be in your place now."

Dameron is too self-assured for this bait. Greedily, he sucks Kylo's fingers into his mouth. Dameron drags his tongue over the pad of each one. Circles it between them. Sucks long and slow, nursing as if it's Kylo's cock in his mouth. His face blossoms hotter. Eyes low-lidded and dark.

"You were made for the Dark Side," Kylo hums. It's the closest his commander will get to praise. 

Dameron smirks under his fingers and nuzzles their wet tips. Kylo's hand leaves scars of saliva on his face.

Abrupty, Dameron jerks, panting hot into Kylo's palm. His thighs spasm around Kylo's legs, lust glazing his eyes.

"How long should I make you wait this time?" Kylo taps Dameron's temple. The Force whispers along every inch of his being. Nerve endings and pleasure beds. Purring through Dameron's deepest desires.

Dameron's laugh is strained. "You're messing with me."

Yes, Kylo is. Because he can.

A breath of warning, a shift of hips. Dameron's mouth is open, uncharacteristically silent.

Kylo keeps him here, teetering. Dameron grits a curse, hands knotted in the bed sheets. "Not quite," Kylo decides. He traces a comma into Dameron's temple. 

Dameron hisses, the tendons tight in his neck. His mouth frames a fence of grit teeth. Brow knotted, stomach clenched. Kylo shakes his head. "Not quite."

He presses harder. "N'hhh!" Dameron's skin burns, eyes all pupil. Invisible mouths lap at pebbled nipples. Tongues stroke his erection. Unseen teeth leave their mark. He shudders, Adam's apple bobbing an unspoken plea. Kylo knows his every weakness by heart. Poe Dameron keeps no secrets from him.

"If I do send you to Jakku," A single dot against Dameron's temple, "what will you bring me, commander?"

"Droid," Dameron gasps. He'll say anything in this moment. Babbles information Kylo should already know. "BB-8."

BB-8. The map to Skywalker.

"Yes," Kylo smiles behind his mask, "good." He lets Dameron go.

***

Sweat cools down Dameron's neck. Blood cakes his face; cum dries in his briefs. His pupils are dilated. Mouth, swollen and wet. Jagged breaths leak from his open lips.

He knows exactly what he's done.

Kylo looks on, face obscured by his mask. But Dameron knows there's triumph beneath. Victory, without breaking a sweat. "Thank you for your cooperation." Mechanical boredom.

"Go to Hell," Dameron hisses. The sentiment means nothing to a man - a _thing_ \- like Kylo Ren. But it makes Dameron feel better. The defiance sounds like him, at least. Like he's in control again.

Kylo eyes Dameron thoughtfully.

Then, he wags a chiding finger. Dameron's world goes black.

*The End*


End file.
